


A Surprise Visit.

by OblivionSeaker



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hurt Peter Quill, Post Guardians of the Galaxy 2, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-10-26 16:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10790628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OblivionSeaker/pseuds/OblivionSeaker
Summary: (Set four months after the events of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2)With the Light gone, Peter found himself growing weaker and a dizzy spell lands himself and fellow Guardians on an unknown planet.-There's been a plot re-write so I suggest that you read from the beginning.-





	1. Chapter 1

Peter sighed for the umpteenth time, losing himself in his music and technology as he aimed to replace/ upgrade some of the ships engine systems, not trusting Rocket to as he'd rather not have atomic bombs built and kept on what technically is his ship. As well as the bombs, he'd also rather avoid their pitiful looks and insincere words of comfort. He wanted to be alone, yet he felt guilty for alienating himself from the other guardians, especially Gamora, she was trying to help him, he knew that well, but he just wanted to be alone. The redhead’s hands kept on shaking, since, -that- and he found that he couldn't sleep, and he could bring himself to eat, his lack of appetite brought on dizzy spells and headaches making him regrettably agitated towards his fellow Guardians, he hated how he kept blowing off Gamora’s worried glances and attempt to get him to rest, to eat, but he felt as if he couldn’t, every time he closed his eyes he could see himself destroying the universe, he could see the death of trillions of innocent beings all in the name of ‘cleansing’ and ‘having a blank canvas to construct a new universe upon’.

Quill could feel himself growing weaker by the day, the ‘Light’ clearly removed his immortality - he could feel it burning out inside of him causing him to feel a constant strain of fatigue and aches that go bone deep. He knows he is dying. Injuries were becoming a huge disaster just waiting to happen, the Guardian felt every spark leave sharp tingles on his skin, he felt every bruise he received after being flung into a wall or if he takes a backhand to the face. He’s just thankful that he hasn’t taken any life-threatening blows yet.  
Four months after the disastrous and scarring events had recently transpired, the Guardians sat on the newly built Milano, jumping through a seemingly endless stream of portals towards their next job. After hearing about what had happened, the people of Xandar graciously re-built the Milano, gave Kraglin a job as chief of a Nova Corp squad and returned Mantis to her home planet where she was taken in by a loving family – it's what she deserves after being raised by that maniac. Nova Prime also paid the Guardians handsomely for their second Galaxy saving escapade as their planet was nearly destroyed for a second time by the mountains of, hard, blue slime.  
Giving a weak tug on a red wire he needed to replace, a sudden wave of nausea over took him, making him waver from where he was crouched behind a small turbine, he tried to blink away the black that encroached on his vision, but a sudden desire to sleep made him welcome the dark, thinking to himself that maybe an impromptu nap wasn’t so bad.

He never realized that when he fell to the side and reached out to break his fall on instinct, he pulled on a pipe that fed coolant to the engines.

**************************************************************************

"Hey, Quill, what are we doing here again?" Rocket asked gruffly, not caring to look behind as he sighed in boredom and hunched over on the consoles, watching as the stars fly past and colors swirled and merged together around them, flashing lights blinding him slightly as they passed through the different quadrants via a system of intergalactic ‘jump spots’. The hybrid raccoon sat wishing that the human would let him tamper with the engines to allow them to travel places much faster than they already were, but unfortunately, Quill was way too close to the ship to allow him to do anything, even if it had been destroyed and re-built twice now. All he did was want to build a bomb that one time! It was all out of useless parts anyway, nothing important, just some tubes and screws from the hydraulic system and a piston or two from the outdated engines.

The rodent sighed again, ears turning down, as his permanent frown took hold, he looked to his left where a restless looking Groot quietly dozed in the orange co-pilot seat, he too was itching to be getting back out there, running into the face of danger and enjoying every moment of it as always.

"We are going to Melarus to retrieve a stolen artifact and return it to the people of Garteen, Peter is down in the engine room; he was saying something about replacing a turbine?" Gamora, who sat in the space behind, polishing and sharpening their arsenal of weapons, answered, she too was bored and ready to get back into action.  
"So Star-Dork can tamper all he wants but I'm not allowed to touch a thing?" Rocket half-heartedly argued, throwing his hands – paws- up in despair,

"Leave him alone, he has his reasons," Gamora sighed, not wanting an argument to ignite before they even get to the planet to complete the well-paying job, despite the fact that they had been paid so much, a little extra cash wouldn’t hurt anyone.

"I am Groot," The humanoid tree grumbled from his spot.

"So what if it's 'his ship', technically it's our ship now too!"

"What is the rodent getting irate about now?" Drax said, walking up the narrow steps into the cockpit, eyes slightly hooded as he had decided to catch up on some shut-eye before their next mission.

Thinking of sleep, Gamora doesn't remember the last time Peter had gotten sleep that lasted longer than a two hour nap... or the last time he ate. Since their 'unspoken thing' became more than just that, the pair found themselves sleeping in the same bed, comforting each other through their shared demons. She sighed and look towards the staircase that Drax had recently ascended, wondering if she should talk Peter into resting for a few hours before they get to their next destination. However, she already knew that the half-celestial would decline, claiming that he was 'fine' when they all knew he was far from it. 'Stubborn fool,' she mused, though she was quickly snapped back to reality when alarms started to blare.

"Rocket?!" She yelled above the wailing sirens, diving for one of the chairs behind the piloting seats and securely buckling herself in.

"Something in the engines just failed, stupid Stupid-Lord probably clipped the wrong wire – if only he would let me look at them, then we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"Cease your yammering!" Drax Growled, keeping himself anchored by holding onto a bar in the ceiling as the ship shuddered and groaned, leeching left and right, sometimes diving making the frantic Guardians feel weightless for a moment before they centered themselves and the artificial gravity kicked in.

"Looks like we are taking a detour!" Rocket yelled, shielding his eyes as they went through a different Jump to the one they were supposed to.

"WOAH!" He shrieked as a planet made up of white, blue and green came zooming into their view, huge land masses of green and orange appeared to be surrounded by a blue ocean,

"Rocket, take us back!" Gamora screamed, gripping the armrests of the chair tightly as she watched the planet come closer and closer until their entire windshield was taken up by the planet's appearance.

"I can't, the engines won't cooperate, and the gravitational pull is too strong, it looks like we are gonna make an emergency landing!" Rocket replied, working hurriedly to bring the ship down gently, but their descent became so fast their view was replaced with a bright yellow light,

"ROCKET!" Gamora screamed, terrified, suddenly she remembered, 

"Wait, Peter!" She quickly unbuckled herself and went to the central room where their bunks were located, she let out a small yelp when the ship shook violently and she was thrown into the central table, tools and other paraphernalia flying in all directions during their terrifying free-fall.

"Peter?" She called down into a hatch, but she heard nothing Drax was suddenly by her side before the world lurched forward and she was thrown to the ground, feeling the ship scrape along the terrain around them before grinding to a halt, the power cutting out as light streamed in from cracks in the outer metal. 

‘A least the air is breathable’ she thought, pulling herself up, thankful to be unharmed, she ducked when a rogue wire snapped, sparks showering down around her and the ship was eerily quiet, surprisingly she was unharmed, the consoles around her looked to be somewhat damaged by the heat of entering the planet's atmosphere, pipes hissed and tense metal groaned, one of the bunks on the right had fallen down in the crash, the other was loosely hanging on by their screws, weapons, gear and other items littered the floor, some in broken heaps, others were just thrown out of place. She sighed and tucked he hair behind her ears, 

“Drax?” She asked, looking around, happy when she saw him lying a few feet away in the dim lighting. 

"Here." He said gruffly, pushing a metal plate off of him as he got up, brushing off scrap metal when he stood, he looked visibly unharmed.

"Is everyone okay?" Rocket asked, peering down the narrow stair well.

"I think so, Peter?" Gamora frowned, wrenching open the hatch that Peter had descended hours before. Nothing, the assassin quickly dove in, ignoring the smoke that was billowing from a generator to her left, machines and other electronic devices lay strewn about the narrow room, the heat was almost unbearable as a fire began in one of the engines. 

"Peter?!” She coughed, smoke making her eyes water.

"Peter?" She called out again, this time more frantically, moving forward, almost tripping over a fallen pipe. Then she saw him. Well, his right side anyway.

“… Peter?” She whispered, kneeling next to her fallen companion, blood staining the knees of her clothes. "Drax, help me get him out!" She screamed, gathering the fabric of Peter's teal t-shirt and dragging him out, parts of the broken systems falling into the place where Peter once lay, the Destroyer quickly jogged down the narrow walkway, attempting to fan some of the smoke away, he helped her lift Peter up, and took him into his arms like a ragdoll, frowning at how light he was. His breath hitched slightly when he saw that the once tanned arms of his companion were covered, shoulder to wrist in terrible burns. Peters' neck was coated in bruises, a small burn blistering on one side, a trickle of red came down from a deep cut on his temple, mixing with the blood from smaller cuts on his scarily limp face. 

Gamora shrieked when she saw the shrapnel embedded in Peter’s side, deciding to leave it alone in case it was stopping him from losing too much blood. 

"We need to go!" She said hurriedly, eyeing up the fire in the corner of the room, spreading alarmingly near to a pool of spilled fuel. She took off, quickly dashing up the ladder like stairs. Drax ascending immediately behind her, breathing in the fresh air deeply as they left their ship into the cool night of the planet they ‘landed’ on, dragging Peter with haste, away from their ship. 

“Come on, let’s get to the forest,” Rocket said, pointing to the wooded a few meters north of their location. So they did, pushing forward and decidedly not looking back when they heard a large explosion from behind them, knowing too well that The Milano had just gone up in a huge fireball.

“So much for repairing the ship,” Rocket grumbled scampering forward and disappearing in the dark, sinister cover of the forest before them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Marvel, Guardians of the Galaxy 2 is set a few months after the firs film which was set in 2014, so going off of that information, the events of Age of Ultron haven't happened yet and for simplicity, I've decided to leave out the events of The Winter Soldier.

Clint sighed and sunk further into Natasha who was observing their dysfunctional family from their comfortable spot on the couch, purple blanket pulled up halfway up his chest, covering his and Natasha legs whilst they indulged in a thankfully quiet and uneventful night. On tonight's agenda: a movie night spent watching classic films or more recent releases.

Tonight's film choice was Pacific Rim, what can they say, it's nice seeing others save the world for a change. The plot was occasionally interrupted by questions and Steve scolding Tony for wanted to build a Jaeger sized iron man suit.

"But it'll be so cool!" Tony had protested,

"You can build one when we get overrun by Kaiju, how about that," Natasha promised, using a voice as if she were talking to a small child. Clint scoffed and Tony huffed and crossed his arms; already planning out the schematics in his head.

Cap had sat back, on the other side of the couch Tony was on, quietly watching the film with a long forgotten sketchbook in his lap, on the adjacent couch was Bruce, legs crossed while his head rested in one of his hands as he propped himself up on the armrest of the couch. Natasha and Clint were at the other end of the overly large couch, Natasha was sat comfortably in the corner whilst Clint clutched her like a teddy bear, back to the screen with his legs pulled close to his chest. Lucky, his one-eyed golden retriever, curled up in the gap between Clint's stomach and the back of the couch, head in the crook of his neck.

Half way through the film, the archer’s eyes began to droop, noticing this, Natasha gently took his hearing aids from his ears and placed them on the armrest and then she started carding a hand through his hair absently.

In the large, regal armchair next to their couch, Thor sat grinning madly at the scenes of the film, no they aren't particularly funny, but he found the 'large metal men' rather enjoyable to watch.

It wasn't until the last ten minutes of the movie when the alarm sounded loud and clear throughout the facility, interrupting their pleasant movie night. Groaning In frustration, they all got up and made their way to the briefing room, Natasha quickly shook Clint awake and slipped his aids back on for him, he sighed, just wanting a nice quiet night where people don't try and take over the world. Just once.  
He jogged with Natasha towards the elevator, a grumpy Lucky trotting dutifully at his side, also having being woken up by the wailing alarms. Seeing as Fury was already on screen, the meeting had already begun, 

"Nice of you to have joined us, Agents." He deadpanned, looking at the assassins sneak quietly into the room and take their places around the oval table. Clint just smirked and Natasha rolled her eyes,

"As I was saying, approximately five minutes ago an unidentified spacecraft entered the atmosphere at a high velocity," The video of Fury moved to the top left corner of the screen while a grainy recording from surveillance camera picked up a flaming ship traveling at alarming speeds towards the Earth before grinding to a halt, the lights from the engines going out as a wing bent then broke away from the ship, crashing to the ground. Clint stared at the footage, worrying a little that Loki could be back, the hairs stood up on the back of his neck and he shivered at the thought, but his mind was put to rest a little when he saw the blue and orange colours of the ship as it looked nothing like something an overconfident Asgardian God would use to travel.

"The ship crashed near an abandoned farm in Missouri, your orders are to suit up and confront whatever creature is on the ship, ask them to leave or surrender their weapons and prove themselves to be of no danger to us." Fury continued, "I'm also sending in armed shield personnel to surround the ship, be there in fifteen minutes, I'll send the coordinates through, good luck." and with that, the transmission cut off and they sprang into action, running to the 'locker room' to get their gear on, Clint swapped his comfortable purple hearing aids for the uncomfortable, in ear Field Communicators that doubled up as aids before slipping on his Hawkeye vest and grabbing his favourite recurve bow and holster of arrows. 

"Sounds easy enough," Tony had muttered, walking to his sectioned off area to get ready, 

"We don't know for sure yet, try not to say anything that might offend them," Cap said, throwing a pointed look at Tony, 

"I'm hurt that you would think I would do such a thing," He said, putting his hand over his heart in fake hurt, then, he twirled around and disappeared behind a door that donned the Iron Man insignia. 

"I am most excited to meet the new species!" Thor said happily, already waiting in the hanger that Clint entered soon after him, Lucky had followed the archer to the Quinjet, so he quickly bent down on one knee and scratched the dog behind the ears. 

"Be a good boy," He said to Lucky, who whined in disapproval at the fact that Clint had to leave, "Hey, come on, I'll take you for a walk when I come back, maybe if you're good we will get you some pizza." To that, the half-blind dog smiled and wagged his tail, giving Clint a good lick to the face before strolling off to the stairwell to nap on Clint's bed so pass the time while he waited for his master to return. 

"You know some people would think that you are in a relationship with your dog," Natasha smirked when she caught up with the archer, having seen the previous interaction from where she entered the large room. Now dressed in her cat-suit, she was ready to go, Widow's Bite bracelets strapped securely to her wrists and beloved guns in their holsters on her hips. 

"What can I say, I love my dog," He said, shrugging his shoulders and jogging up to the Quinjet, stepping onto the metal he made a B-line for the pilots seat and fired up the engines, Tony soon walked on carrying a briefcase with his beloved iron man suit, now in the skin-suit he wore under the metal, Cap was followed by Thor who was followed by Bruce, carrying a doctor's kit and wearing his 'Hulk-shorts' as Tony had dubbed them in case of a code green.

"Here we go!" Clint said, watching as Natasha flicked the switch which opened the hangar door and closed the hatch at the back of the jet. Since Loki, Tony has spent his time upgrading Stark tower, improving security and the outer defences as well as adding a hanger to one of the highest floors to allow them to quickly get to where they need to be should they get called out. It had proven to be useful as after Loki, the villains of the world took their chances, only to be embarrassingly defeated by the newly formed Avengers. 

The Avengers could only hope that today was going to be an easy battle and not another extra-terrestrial escapade to control the Earth.


	3. Chapter 3

The journey took no longer than ten minutes and when they arrived in the seemingly abandoned, overgrown farmer’s field. They could only hope that is was abandoned, the farmhouse they passed looked old and decrepit, the paint had long gone dull and began to peel while the cattle roamed around where they wished, some checking out the long trench the ship had dug out when it had come in contact with the ground. 

Flying to the wreck-site, Clint noticed S.H.I.E.L.D personnel were already surrounding the wreckage, guns trained on the eerily quiet ship as others set up white, gazebo-like tents around the agents, mainly built up to the left of the ship as the other side was mainly overgrown weeds and tall grasses - they were erected quickly to be ready to be loaded with equipment and scientific instruments. The initial crash can't have been more than fifteen minutes ago but you could say that there were Agents around every corner nowadays, especially after The Battle of New York and the threat of evil has risen. 

Soon after landing, the Avengers swiftly exited the Quinjet and made their way towards the ship, ignoring the hubbub of agents rushing around, the five of them (Bruce decided to rush towards the science tent, mumbling something like 'tell me if it's a code green,') moved in the direction of to where Jasper Sitwell stood, quickly tapping at his tablet and ordered agents around via his earpiece. As much as Clint liked Sitwell and respected his authority, he always wished that it was Coulson there, throwing out deadpanned remarks and ensuring their safety. He always kept an eye out for Clint, being an uneducated orphan who was left for dead, Coulson made it his mission to turn the deaf hit-boy into the man he is today. 

"What’s the news?" Cap asked, taking his shield from his back holster and slipping it onto his forearm,

"No activity as of yet, we are waiting for them to come out, but if nothing happens in the next ten minutes we are opening those doors ourselves," Jasper explained, watching as local fire crews put out the last of the flames, somewhat expecting the inhabitants to be long dead in the crash and added fire. Cap nodded thoughtfully, "the door looks like it on this side," The agent continued, pointing to a half open, round door, raised above the ground but half of the wing proved to make a secure ramp up towards it where a small glow of light was peeking through the gap in the metal.

Clint observed the ship from where he stood, taking in the obscure triangular shape of its flaming body, it was mainly orange and blue in color, though the heat from entering the atmosphere and the long distance that it had ground along the rocky terrain of the field had scratched and dirtied the paint job. The wings spread out like a bird's and the front came to a pointed tip that had been buried in the dirt where it had finally come to a stop, at the top on the front was a large sheet of dirtied, cracked glass, even though it was late at night, going on one A.M, S.H.I.E.L.D already had this thing lit up light a Christmas tree with the spotlights that they had trained on the burnt ship.  
It was all very reminiscent of that time in New Mexico, the mission where Clint was told to look over the goings on around the mysterious hammer that had landed in the dirt. Little did he know he was being ordered to engage with the god of thunder, he wanted to smile at the memory, but that just brought on images of Coulson, so he shook his head and went back to the task at hand.

However, there was still no sign of activity. However something in the dirt caught Clint’s eye, he stepped closer and examined the footprints, four, maybe five different sets, all of different shapes and sizes, each leading away from the smashed cockpit of the ship and towards the forest. Surprisingly, they appeared to be somewhat humanoid, but two of the sets begged to differ; in a long, spaced outline were large circular prints in the mud, next to it, those that resembled those of a rodent. Clint thought that it was probably just something running away from the crash. 

"Guys..." He said, keeping his eyes on the circular door, seeing a gray blur pass through again, eyes squinting in concentration.  
"What?" Natasha asked, hearing the worried tone Clint had used, frowning as she followed his gaze towards the floor he had his eyes trained on.

"Whatever was in there escaped,” He uttered, 

“Looks like they wouldn’t get far,” Natasha observed, pointing towards small drips of blood shining in the spotlights that turned night into day. 

“Cap!” Natasha called back, “Come take a look at this!” Within seconds Captain Rogers was at their side, stopping short when he too saw the footprints and crimson blood of their escaped visitors. 

“The blood looks human,” Tony set, kneeling forward to get a closer look, 

“We’ll get Banner to do a DNA test to see exactly what we are dealing with,” Cap confirmed,

“How do you want us to proceed?” Clint asked, notching an arrow, keen eyes trained on the treeline. 

“We’ll split up and take a team of agents with us, Tony and I will head east, Thor will go west and Clint and Natasha can go North,” He ordered, gathering a group of eight S.H.I.E.L.D agents to follow himself and Tony while they try to find the occupants of the ship, 

\--

“Come on, come on,” Rocket chided, scampering forward and perching on a rock, watching worriedly as Gamora and Drax dragged a terribly injured Quill forward, 

“We need to rest,” Gamora said, mustering up a strong voice and casting a side-glance to Peter’s face, his skin being the pallor of the full moon shining through the trees. She shivered yet she blamed the inexplicable chill in the air, though she couldn’t help but feel put off by the now pale skin, it should be tanned, it should be full of life with rosy red cheeks and light, pink, kissable lips. But no; instead the tan has turned to gray and the light pink of his lips faded. 

“We need to keep moving.” The Racoon stated, turning away to keep moving forward,

“I Am Groot,” The tree crumbled, blending I easily with the surroundings, especially in the minimal light, 

“What do you mean look at- oh?” He stopped, taking an actual look at the fallen guardian. “Right, yeah, bring him down here,” He said, scampering down into a long, natural trench, lined with trees who’s canopies offered some decent protection. Drax and Gamora laid him down flat along one of the edges, laying his arms on his stomach to keep the burns off of the ground. 

“We need to get the metal out,” Drax said, giant hand ghosting over the shard. 

“Yeah, but we don’t have anything to use as a bandage.” 

“I am Groot,” 

“Wait could that work?” Drax raised an eyebrow. 

“I am Groot,” 

“I guess we should give it a shot, Drax, lift Quill’s hips up, on the count of three I’m going to take the metal out, then Groot will attempt to staunch the bleeding,” The racoon said, taking control of the situation to prolong Quill’s life while they searched for help. 

“Wait, surely wood would be ineffective?” Gamora questioned, 

“He can create vines too,” Rocket said as if it were obvious, 

“Right,” The woman sighed, “What do you want me to do?” 

“Hold him,” She nodded, moving to leaning up against the walls of the dirt lined trench before lifting Quills torso slightly to comfort him, as the others moved into their positions, she couldn’t help but notice the slight twitch of Quill's brow. ‘if only he could stay unconscious for a few more minutes’ she thought to herself, shushing the red-head while running a hand through his dark amber locks.

“Okay, One, Two.” The raccoon sucked in a breath, Drax lifted Quills hips and Groot extended vines from his fingertips, “Three,”  
With one swift motion, Rocket snatched out the metal, ‘unplugging’ the wound while Groot wrapped his vines around Quills waist, suddenly, the redhead let out a heavy groan, 

“Peter?” Gamora asked timidly, watching as his blue eyes peeked through the small gap in his lids. 

“G’m’ora?” He slurred, lips no longer cooperating as the world span around him,

“Yeah, I’m here, so Rocket, Groot, and Drax,” 

“Hurts.” He grimaced, body locking up in agony, he went to move his arms but they felt like lead, like the rest of his body. He was tired, so very tired and sick and hurt and he just wanted to sleep some more, 

“I know, but we are going to get you help from…” She found herself coming up short, the five of them had no idea where they might be, they had no time to check the electrical instruments before the crash, so their location was unknown, and they had no idea as to where the closest inhabitants might be. “Just go back to sleep,” Gamora heard herself saying, 

“m’Ky,” he sighed, slipping back into unconsciousness, 

“Rocket, your fastest, can you go and get help?” Gamora said in a hushed voice, 

“Sure thing,” He nodded quickly, dashing off and out of the trench before coming back to where the others resided, “Groot, can you make some sort of hut, you, know, a bit like you did on Ronan’s ship, it’ll keep you hidden from any danger,” Groot nodded, and with that, he scurried off, 

“I am Groot,” The Flora Colossus rumbled, sitting back and letting long, malleable branches speak out from his back, winding around the trees above and forming a watertight roof as well as a wall with a small entrance on the open side that was left. 

“Get some sleep guys,” the green woman ordered lightly, still carding her nimble fingers through Peters' hair. Drax and Groot nodded, the Destroyer laying down and falling into a light slumber while Gamora stayed up, wishing that Rocket would return soon with some help.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have my mojo back and an idea for a solid plot so here we go!

Gamora tried her best to keep Peter warm and comfortable, as well as fighting the chill herself, with nothing to start a fire and their belongings engulfed in a fireball, they had very little to keep them warm. Two hours into waiting for Rocket she had taken a strip from Peters destroyed t-shirt and carefully dabbed around the gash above his right eyebrow, careful not to press too hard on the bruises forming around that area. The assassin had then tried her best at healing the burns but the scorched skin needed something better than charred rags and tattered strips of uniform if they were to heal properly, even then Gamora knew that they would need a healer at the earliest convenience to give them their expertise.

"He's never been hurt this badly before, even in the worst war zones he'd come out with just a scratch never broken bones or burns of this severity, even when the ship crashed on Berhert, he was fine." Drax suddenly mused aloud, breaking her out of her trance as he sat up from where he was slumbering on the earthy forest floor "What has changed?"

She huffed and looked out of the door for her teammate who was yet to return, but there was nothing but the howling winds and heavy rainfall of a storm that had begun not too long ago. Gamora placed a gentle hand on Peters creased and dirtied forehead with a gentleness that would feel strange to those who know the capabilities of her strength. Despite what you may think, Gamora could be the galaxies biggest softie, her past actions might tell you otherwise but suddenly having a family that cared rather than a father who made her fight her sibling to the death helped her to learn what real love and compassion is like, instead of the anger and loneliness that she had felt, locked away in a cell, only to be dragged out to be ‘trained’ in murder and destruction.

Blinking away the memories she felt concerned at the level of heat radiating from the dirty, clammy skin, she looked around for another strip of cloth but everything was torn, bloodied and or filthy; the rest remained hidden under the debris of their once new and functioning ship.

The shard of metal that left a huge open wound in Peters skin above his hip continued to bleed so heavily that the crimson liquid had begun to leak through the makeshift bandages Groot had sprouted, staining the Terran's clothes further and pooling on the ground beneath. Looking at the pale, frowning face that was Peters, Gamora was tempted to pick up Quills limp body and take him out into the forest herself, but the assassin was at a crossroads, either wait for Rocket to return which will increase the chance of Peter bleeding to death, or pick him up and take him out into the storm. With a sigh, she chose the former before turning to Drax, 

"Here," She said, holding out the strip of fabric she had used to wipe away the blood from his forehead, "Can you hold this in the rainwater, it might help bring down his fever," The destroyer nodded and went out of their makeshift hut, not flinching when lightning streaked across the sky, he returned a moment later, dripping wet with a soaked piece of fabric in his hand. Gamora nodded her thanks and placed it across Peters' forehead, trying to ignore his shivers. 

\----

With nothing but his wit and courage, Rocket scampered through the undergrowth, keeping a keen ear out for any foreign noises while ignoring the growing anxiety within him. Of course, he wasn’t that worried about Quill, feelings were something he generally tried to ignore, but since the death of Yondu and the anguish he has seen Quill suffer through, he couldn’t help but have an air of worry and unease during these past few weeks. The relentless rain had started to fall approximately two hours ago; thunder roaring across the sky as lightning illuminated the forest before him. The trees seemed to stretch on for miles like he was stuck in an endless loop. The rodent could only hope that there was civilization here, otherwise, they would all be well and truly screwed if he couldn’t find something on the ship that was salvageable enough to make a radio. Pushing back that fear he continued on running, ignoring how tired he had started to become adrenaline and fear being the fuel for his energy. Heavy rainfall soaked him to the bone, his orange jumpsuit soaked within seconds of its beginning, gray fur feeling heavy with water. Yet he still persisted, hoping that he could find help; preferably a healer but if he could find some supplies…  
A sudden beam of light from his left caught his attention, it moved from left to right before being joined by another, voices started to break through the roar of the storm. He was in luck

\---

“Look ‘Tasha I don’t see what the huge deal is-“ Clint argued with a huff, 

“You drink coffee right from the pot,” Natasha shot back, 

“So?” he shrugged his shoulders. 

“We you born in a barn?”

“… Maybe…” he shrugged, not too keen on thinking back to his childhood. 

“How long do you reckon we need to carry on for?” Clint huffed after a few more minutes of traipsing carefully through the thick undergrowth of the dark forest, wiping his hair from his forehead when the heavy precipitation made the spikes fall and become uncomfortably stuck to his skin.

“As long as Cap needs us to, for all we know, they could be hostile.” Natasha shrugged, short red curls framing her face; flashlight in one hand, pistol in the other, ready to open fire on any hostile creatures. 

“Wait,” Clint suddenly said, drawing the small team of shield agents behind them to a silent halt; his piercing blue eyes scanned the area around them, flashlight shining its beam where he thought he had seen movement, he was about to keep moving when a small animal came scampering into view. 

“It’s just a raccoon,” He sighed, almost relieved that it wasn’t a genocidal alien, yet he was frustrated that they had been searching for hours and they hadn’t found any sign of the extra-terrestrials, perhaps the alien ship had been unmanned, or, the creatures were engulfed in flames when the initial explosion had happened. 

“Just a Racoon?!” the rodent spat back, trying to square up to the group who had their guns – and bow and arrow- pointing in his direction. He was going to have to talk his way out of this one. 

“Okay this is new,” Natasha muttered to Clint before raising a questioning brow. Rocket gathered himself together before proceeding, cautiously knowing that Quill was currently fighting for his life. 

“Uh, hi,” He began, trying to think of a way to explain himself to these people who were either Xandarian or Human. 

“Hi?” Clint offered, feeling kind of awkward talking to a Racoon, he looked to Natasha to make sure that he hadn’t gone insane, but she held the same expression as the archer, she was hearing what he was, and that just made the situation even more bizarre. 

“The names Rocket, me and my friends ship crashed a few miles out, can you help us, my friend, he’s really hurt,” He explained, looking almost desperately between the two people standing before him, he looked to the woman to maybe get some sort of emotional leeway but saw nothing through her static expression. 

“You’re a raccoon.” Clint said slowly, almost dumbfounded, “That can talk.” Rocket felt like pulling his fur out then and there. 

“Yes” He begrudgingly agreed, “Now can you please help us, Qu- my friend is dying!” At those words, the two assassins snapped from their vague stupor. Looking wearily at each other before agreeing to follow, wondering who else was there waiting. 

“So, who are these friends of yours?” Natasha asked, jogging, to try and catch up with the small critter scampering impatiently before them, he stopped on a log before speaking; 

“There are five of us, me, Gamora, Drax, Groot, and Peter,” Clint snorted,

“Peter, that’s a bit of a generic name for an alien,” He quipped, Natasha shot him a glare but he could tell she was amused. He could always tell. 

“He ain't no alien anymore,” They heard Rocket murmur under the roar of the storm still raging above their heads. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Russian questioned, 

“Long story short his dad went nuts, tried to kill him so we destroyed his giant brain that happened to be floating in the middle of deep space – this also kind of cut off Peter’s powers so now he’s just human.” Rocket explained; his tone serious though the two Avengers though it was all insane, however, after New York they had begun to believe that things like this were happening out there in the universe, they just never thought any of their estranged ideas were even remotely true. 

“How did a human end up in the middle of ‘deep space’” 

“Well, you could say his dad banged his way through the universe, when he was nine or whatever Quill was abducted outside a hospital and taken in by Ravagers.” A pang of sadness hit him when he thought of Yondu being a part of the family Peter had grown up in, despite his flaws he was a good man and had good reason for keeping Peter alive, hell Rocket wasn’t even sure that he’d be here if he didn’t get into the whirlwind that was star munch's life. He grew to like the blue Centurian, not that he’d admit it, but, they were the same person, and he missed the big blue bastard more than he’d like to admit. 

“So he was abducted… that’s not something you hear every day,” Clint shrugged, 

“When did this happen?” Natasha questioned. 

“Like… 35 years ago or something, I don’t really know,” the raccoon said over his shoulder, stopping momentarily to sniff the air; he hated how he was following the stench of blood.


End file.
